


Running Again

by Naomida



Series: Fire Meet Gasoline [2]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Backstory, Gen, illidari - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-02 23:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10230533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naomida/pseuds/Naomida
Summary: After a hard time in Helheim, Lidya decides to take a well earned break back home in Redridge. Anduin, however, has other plans.





	

When Lidya arrived in Dalaran, the sun was shining brightly over the city, Krasus Landing was packed with heroes and adventurers, and she was about ready to just pass out in the middle of the crowd.

Some troll elbowed her and sneered something that she didn’t understand so she cursed him back and started walking – there was no point in staying there, after all, and she was pretty sure she had enough money to buy all the alcohol in the city, so she might as well do it.

A Hero’s Welcome was, as usual, loud and busy but she managed to find a table for two, sat down and asked the barmaid for a bottle of the stronger thing they had.

Two minutes and three shots taken one after the other without a pause later, Lidya was starting to feel buzzed and managed to relax for the first time in three days, which prompted her to take the cause of all these problems out of its sheath and put it down on the table in front of her.

She sighed, looked up at the three balls of fire happily bouncing over her head, and had to admit that it looked pretty cool. And so did the sword.

The legendary Felo’melorn.

She had to snort, grab the bottle by its neck and take a long sip directly from it at the thought that she, Lidya Appleton, reckless fire mage who only managed to survive by sheer chance, was now the proud owner of such a weapon.

“Fuck me,” she murmured after swallowing, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and leaning back in the chair, closing her eyes for a second.

Knowing that Bolvar was the Lich King was painful enough but seeing it with her own two eyes? Hearing him speak like this and do what he had done to this blood elf. It was a little too much.

What was her name again? Something Sunstrider.

Lidya felt bad for killing her, but just a little bit.

She drank another long sip straight from the bottle again, keeping her eyes closed, and wondered how the others copped with the kind of lifestyle they had. The only other adventurer that she knew who had decided that enough was enough and had retired for a quiet life as a hermit was a death knight and Lidya had always thought that she deserved it. Death knights had had a lot on their plates, and this one had called it quits right after Arthas’ death, which seemed fair.

Lidya though, she didn’t know if she deserved a break. After all, no one had ever forced her to do all that she had done. She hadn’t been killed then brought back to life and mind controlled. She could have been a tranquil mage, spending all of her time in a library, getting lost in spells and old books.

But no, instead she _had_ to go seek glory and kill murlocs and Light damned Defias for a living.

Maybe her mother had been right all along and she should have stayed at the orchards with her family. Surviving in Redridge was already enough of an adventure.

Lidya gasped loudly, opened her eyes and almost jumped out of her chair in her haste to straighten up. The two gnomes at the table next to her gave her nasty looks but she didn’t care, too horrified with her line of thinking. How could she say that her mother was right? Fel no! Her mother had wanted her to be a gentle farmer woman, married and with children years ago, and instead Lidya had trained as a mage, learned how to control fire, traveled not only this world but others too. She had slayed dragons and scourge.

She had saved the world!

Now, she even had Felo’melorn, legendary sword, to prove her worth.

It wasn’t the time to be drinking and feeling pathetic.

She set the bottle back down on the table a little too hard, grabbed Felo’melorn and sheathed it back before getting up, leaving a few coins on the table and getting out of the tavern with determination.

Killing a few demons would probably put her in a better mood. Then, she could go see what Khadgar was up to, and maybe help him with whatever he was now busy doing.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have the chance to take two steps out of the tavern before realizing that there was a lot of commotion in Greyfang Enclave and she only hesitated for half a second before deciding to go see what that was about.

Inside, everyone was walking past the portals and up the stairs, jostling and walking quickly. She followed along, barely dodging a dwarf walking against everyone and mumbling in his beard something rude.

The craziest part about it though, was that once Lidya had finally let the crowd push her to the reason for all this, she found herself in front of a piece of parchment and she blinked at it for a second, not understanding.

Then, she read it, and she understood.

Her view of the world changed a little.

Varian Wrynn had abdicated in favor of his only son and heir to the throne, Anduin Wrynn.

She blinked at the piece of parchment again and was pushed off to the side before she could do anything else.

“You think he’ll marry the Princess?” asked a worgen guard to his colleague when Lidya walked past them.

For some reason, the idea of Anduin marrying revolted her a little. Then, she remembered that he wasn’t ten anymore. And that he was the King now, apparently.

She went back to her table at a Hero’s Welcome, glad to see that the bottle hadn’t moved, and started drinking again.

 

 

***

 

 

For once, Lidya had a choice on where she chose to attack the enemy.

Her first choice was Stormheim, because Genn was leading the attack there and she figure spending some time with a friend would probably help her sinking mood.

She was wrong. So, _so_ wrong.

“Don’t you dare ever doing this kind of shit to me, _ever again_!” she yelled in his face as soon as they were left alone.

Genn narrowed his eyes and his pupils seemed to become slimmer.

“What.” he barked as Lidya took a step closer to him and pointed her finger at his face.

“Don’t you dare use me like that to get your revenge while we have more important things to do. Now is _not_ the time to start a war against the Horde.”

A low, dangerous rumble started in his chest, but Lidya was too pissed to pay attention to it, so she narrowed her eyes too instead of backing off.

“The King’s orders were simple, _do not antagonize the Horde_ and _do not_ do anything unless _they_ attack first. You just forced me to disobey a direct order from him! And you put everyone in danger for _nothing_ because she was already long gone by the time we got to her ship, seriously Genn I can’t believe–”

He cut her off by taking a stride up so he was right in her face and turned into his worgen form.

“I will _not_ ,” he hissed between clenched fangs, “let a _peasant_ talk to me like that.”

Lidya took a shocked step back, hurt and not believing her own ears.

“Genn...” she murmured.

He snarled and her hurt immediately turned into hate.

“So this is how it is?” she asked, clenching her fists as he closed the step between them and stood with all his height, twice her size and even more than that her bulk.

He was trying to scare her, she knew, she had seen enough worgen in Duskwood to be able to recognize it.

And just like that, it was back to hurt.

“I sincerely thought that we were friend,” she said, before turning on her heels and blinking away.

 

 

***

 

 

After the crash of the Skyfire and the following cleanup, Lidya went back to Dalaran for a few days, trying to recruit new mages to join the Tirisgarde. So far, only Modera and Kalec had shown up, and she had paid a goblin doing magic tricks in the streets so he would join their cause, but she was pretty hopeful. After all, she was at the right place to look for mages.

The thing she hadn’t been expecting though, was for a dark clawed hand to grab her by the wrist one morning and forcefully lead her in the direction of Krasus Landing.

Lidya blinked in surprised – her eyes, not the spell – but let it happen when she recognized that hand’s owned. It was one of the Illidari she had seen at Stormwind’s Keep when she had gotten back with Varian, the female one. Ilana, if she was not mistaken.

Once on Krasus Landing, Ilana started walking faster instead of slowing down and the only warning Lidya got was a mad grin given over a shoulder before the night elf was wrapping an arm around her waist, making two giant purple wings appear out of her back and off they were, flying over the Landing in the clear direction of the small island floating nearby.

Lidya had heard all sorts of crazy things about where the portal on that island lead to, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t know the truth quite yet.

She wasn’t mistaken, because as soon as they were on the island, overlooking the Tomb of Sargeras and flanked by two bored looking Illidari, Ilana let go of her and went to sit on the edge of the island, her feet dangling over.

Lidya hesitated, but since she had no other option but to teleport back to Dalaran or see what Ilana wanted, she went to sit with her.

“You and Greymane are friends, uh?” asked the Illidari without looking at her.

“I guess,” replied Lidya, frowning and not understanding where this was coming from.

“I was there when you yelled at him the other day, and I have to say I’m impressed. Most humans would have been scared away when he started growling, I imagine.”

“Yeah...” sighed Lidya, shoulders dropping.

She had tried to not think about it too much, but she couldn’t get over it.

She had trusted Genn with a lot, and he had thrown everything back at her face without a care, not even looking phased.

“You know,” said Ilana after a long silence, “with the way everyone freaked out at the Keep when Jace and I brought you back unconscious and covered in blood, I thought that you were a queen for a second. In fact, I thought you were married to that guy you came with.”

Lidya snorted.

“I bet you’re only saying that because Anduin freaked out way too much.”

“Anduin’s the blond one, right? I’m talking about the black haired one.”

Lidya frowned, not understanding what Varian freaking out over her had anything to do with it. In fact, she couldn’t really imagine Varian freaking out about anything or anyone that wasn’t his son.

She would give a lot to never have to see Varian freak out over Anduin ever again.

“If that’s what you’re asking, I’m not dating any king. I’m just friends with them, at least when they feel like it.”

Ilana snorted and finally turned to look at her with a grin that seemed to have too many pointy teeth.

“You should go see Greymane. He’s been weird for the past few days. Maybe he regrets what he said.”

“You don’t even know what it was,” replied Lidya, “and why do you even care?”

Ilana shrugged lazily and her lips curled into an amused grimace.

“You set a lot of demons on fire when we were at the Keep, even though you were fatally wounded, and it got my attention so I did some research.”

“And?”

Ilana’s grin turned predatory.

“It turns out,” she said, “that we have a friend in common.”

 

 

***

 

 

“I still can’t believe Loramus is alive!” shouted Lidya, two hours and a lot of drinks later.

Ilana just giggled, but it probably was because a giant semi-demon elf like her had a stronger resistance to alcohol than her. Whatever. Lidya had learned how to keep her alcohol from a high elf, so she was positive she wouldn’t die from alcohol poisoning.

“He’s one of our best,” replied the demon hunter, taking a break to down two shots before licking her lips and speaking again, “loyal, fierce, brave. One of _the best_.”

“I was _so_ sad when he had to sacrifice himself so we could stop the demon.”

“That’s my boy,” replied Ilana, gesturing with a hand that was holding a new shot. Lidya didn’t even know who was pouring them anymore. “Always doing the right thing. Lord Illidan would be so proud.” She choked before knocking the new shot down then grabbing the bottle and starting to drink directly from it.

Lidya had been in the raid that had killed Illidan, and for the first time ever she felt guilty about it.

 

 

***

 

 

After spending the entire afternoon drinking with Ilana, Lidya managed to get to the Violet Citadel without too much harm and crashed into Khadgar’s bedroom in a fit of giggles.

The archmage, who was sitting at his desk and squinting down at a huge pile of parchment, blinked blearily at her and just sighed when she threw herself on his bed and buried half of her face into one of his pillows.

“You’re a fire mage,” he grumbled, getting up and walking towards her, “you’re supposed to hold your liquor better than most.”

“I do,” she whined into the pillow in reply, kicking her foot in the air and giggling a little when it made her bounce, “but I was drinking with a demon hunter and all that fel...” she raised a hand to gesture vaguely before letting it limply fall back on the mattress next to her.

She was pretty sure the room wasn’t supposed to move the way it did.

“What were you doing with a demon hunter?” asked Khadgar, taking one of her shoe off.

She felt too heavy to react and waited for him to take the other one off too before replying, mumbling into the pillow “I was making a new friend.”

“Good for you,” he sighed.

Lidya felt his hands reaching for her hips, then traveling down to her stomach that was facing the mattress, but she did nothing. Khadgar was a gentleman and she trusted him to not take advantage of her.

His fingers moved over her stomach, making her close her eyes and sigh slowly. She couldn’t even remember the last time someone had touched her stomach who wasn’t either trying to gut her or a healer.

It felt nice.

Then, Khadgar’s fingers finally found how to detach her belt and he took it off for her before reaching for her gloves and slipping them off.

“I wasn’t going to sleep tonight anyway but please, don’t make a habit out of stealing my bed, okay?” he said as he grabbed the covers and managed to pull them over Lidya, who groaned and rolled over on her side as her only answer.

Khadgar sighed, watching her close her eyes and immediately fall asleep, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.

 

 

***

 

 

The next day Ilana joined Lidya while she was having breakfast at a Hero’s Welcome, looking way too good for someone who had drunk so much, she had made the barman cry.

“The ashtongues have this kickass remedy for hungover,” confessed the demon hunter when Lidya groaned about it, stealing a piece of bread from her plate, “I would share some with you, but I’m afraid it’d eat you from the inside out and you’d die a horrible death because of it.”

“I hate you,” whispered the mage before slowly pushing her plate away from her and putting her face down on the table, closing her eyes and wishing for the pounding in it to stop.

She didn’t know any healer in the city yet and Khadgar had offered her absolutely no sympathy when she had woken up – in fact he had grumbled something about eyes and shards before pushing her out of his bed and collapsing into it.

She hadn’t checked but she was pretty sure he was asleep and not dead from exhaustion yet.

“Whatever,” muttered Ilana, probably rolling her eyes behind the piece of tissue hiding them, “let’s go now, we have demons to kill and I don’t know, vrykuls or something.”

Lidya groaned, then whined when Ilana grabbed her by the arm and forced her to her feet.

“I don’t want to go back there,” she tried one last time as Ilana was giving coins to the flight master.

“I’m not giving you a choice,” replied the Illidari, before forcing her on a gryphon.

The mage tried to protest again but her mount set off and she was left gripping the saddle and closing her eyes against the intensification of the pounding in her head.

 

 

***

 

 

All things considered, it didn’t go _that_ bad. Lidya did get the Aegis of Aggramar. Did she suffer to get it and almost died? Yes. Was she still shook by the fact that Helya had literally stolen her soul, broken it in several pieces and refused to let her go back to the living world? Of course. But in the end she had gotten what she wanted, so it was all right, right?

Wrong.

The first thing she did, once she had woken up in Greywatch and made sure that Greymane, who she still wasn’t on speaking terms with, was still alive and would survive, was find Clifford, the gryphon guy, and pay him for a trip back to Dalaran.

She could have used her hearthstone, but she was pretty sure Ilana had stolen it and given it to the black haired blood elf that kept on popping up at random times to help them before disappearing without a word – or worse, a shouted “Death to our enemies!” – and she was too tired to teleport herself.

Also, she was pretty sure she needed the long travel time to get her thoughts back into some semblance of order and try to make sense of everything that had happened to her in the few weeks she had been there.

Unfortunately, by the time she arrived in Dalaran almost two days later – the weather was a real bitch the closer she got to the Tomb and a felbat had almost taken her and her gryphon out at least three times – her thoughts were anything but clear and the only thing she had in mind was that she needed to go _home_.

She took the portal to Stormwind in Dalaran as soon as she arrived and didn’t pause in the city for more than a quick meal, immediately paying for a gryphon to Redridge Mountains.

She had been traveling non-stop for several days now, but the mage was feeling numb and desensitized, and she couldn’t feel the fatigue of it yet. She knew that she should probably stop and think about it for a minute, because she must have looked terrible, and it would be a shock to her family who hadn’t seen her since she had left for Draenor, over two years before, but for now she couldn’t think about anything other than going _home_. Not to Dalaran, or the Hall of the Guardian, or her garrison.

Her real home. Where she had grown up, and where her family was.

She arrived in the middle of the night, and Lakeshire was already asleep, but it didn’t bother her. She knew her way around the city by heart and could have reached the house waiting for her on the hill with her eyes closed.

The door creaked when she opened it, as usual, and she relaxed for the first time in a week upon hearing the familiar sound.

She unclasped her cloak and belt, leaving it, along with Felo’melorn, on her favorite armchair before taking her boots off, grabbing them and slowly walking through the silent house in the direction of her former bedroom.

Her parents had taken her bed out a long time ago, but Melina’s was still there, with the girl fast asleep in it, and she barely moved when Lidya slipped under the covers beside her, wrapped an arm around her hips and fell asleep.

 

 

***

 

 

“We don’t hear anything from you for over two years and you can’t even be bothered to write us before coming home in the middle of the night like some thief.”

Lidya moaned softly, her mother’s hard tone familiar but unwelcomed this early in the morning – especially since she was used to the Broken Isles’ timezone – and the covers were harshly pushed away before her mother was harshly shaking her shoulder.

“Come on then! Since you’re here you’re eating breakfast with everyone and helping your father with work.”

“Mom,” she moaned pathetically, keeping her eyes closed, “I traveled a long way, let me rest.”

“I don’t care, you should have written. Come on, get up! If your sisters eat all of the bread I’m not making you more.”

She wanted to whine more, but then her mother grabbed her by the arm and forced her up, and she had no other choice than to drag her feet to the main room of the house that acted as kitchen and living room.

Her sisters were already sitting at the table, even Léria who lived in Stormwind when she wasn’t off adventuring like her, and she was met with various smiles and happy hellos. Her father, who was standing in the kitchen watching over a boiling pot hugged her tight and close and gave her a proud smile.

“I’m glad to see you back,” he said, gently cupping her face between his big calloused hands and looking closely into her eyes, “I was starting to worry.”

“I’m fine dad,” she smiled, “you don’t have to worry about me.”

Her mother snorted haughtily and pushed her into a chair between Léria and Melina instead of commenting, putting a slice of apple pie in the plate in front of her without a word and raising an eyebrow when Lidya immediately beamed at it.

“Oh Light, I missed your pie dad,” she moaned after her first bite.

Léria waited until she had taken another bite before elbowing her in the ribs.

“Hey, that’s a nice sword you’ve got there,” she said, smirking and pointing to Felo’melorn that was still on the armchair.

“If you knew what I had to go through to get it...” replied Lidya, losing her answering smirk when she met her mother’s sharp eyes. She cleared her throat instead of adding something – she could wait until they were alone – and turned back to her pie instead.

Thankfully her three other sisters, Melina, Oriana and Saya came to the rescue by starting to ask her a thousand questions about her travels through Draenor and the Broken Isles, and Lidya answered them as much as she could without giving out any gruesome detail about the horrors she had witnessed.

It felt good, to be surrounded by the people she loved the most, telling them about exploring pretty lands and meeting interesting people.

 

 

***

 

 

Her father sat her back down at the table after everyone had gone off to do their job and her mother had disappeared, probably off to bother the mayor or something.

“Your mother didn’t want me to do to this,” he said, sitting down opposite her and putting a huge purse down on the table between them, “but here, this is for you.”

Lidya took a peek at the purse’s content and immediately blanched, pushing it back to her father.

“What is this? I can’t–”

“A member of the Royal Guard gave it to us a month ago. He said it was from the King, as gratitude for your service to the kingdom.”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip as her eyes moved from her father’s serene eyes to the purse full of gold – _so much gold_ , she had never seen so many coins in her entire life. She didn’t know what to say. What to think. This was unexpected, especially after she had joked about paying his meals for him on their way to Stormwind, and she wondered if this was why Anduin had insisted so much for her to stay.

If he had been so desperate to give her _gold_.

“Dad I… I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s yours, so take it.”

“But… what about you?”

“This isn’t my money,” he replied, smiling softly and reaching over the table to gently put his hand over hers. “You did something heroic, we all heard about it but didn’t know who it was until the Guard showed up, but as soon as he told us that you were the hero who had risked everything to save to King, it didn’t ever cross my mind. It’s your money. Take it, and do whatever you want with it.”

She looked back down at the purse, then to the left at her sword, still resting on the armchair like it was its place.

“I want to give some to you,” she said, not looking at her father. “I don’t need so much, and I already don’t have any financial problems thanks to all the quests and trading I do, so...”

Her father squeezed her hand, gently, and when she met his eyes he got up from the chair, walked around the table and bent down to hug her again.

This time, she curled her fingers into the soft cotton of his shirt and closed her eyes.

“My daughter, the hero,” he murmured against her short hair.

“I missed you dad,” she murmured back, and he squeezed her tighter.

 

 

***

 

 

Redridge Mountains was still the same as ever. It was hot, dry, stuffy in its own way despite the soft breeze and the lake, and Lidya couldn’t help but feel bittersweet about being back.

The last time she had been here for a long period, she had met and joined the Bravo Company, saved the Elwynn Forest from an orc invasion, and had lost all of her companions – or so she had thought, because one had managed to survive, and everyday she was grateful for that.

When she was away, it was easier to think about simpler times, before the Cataclysm. She always remembered her childhood, spent sailing with her siblings on the lake and hiking through the red hills, hiding in the orchards when her mother was mad at her and Léria. At the time, the only real danger they had been aware of was the few murlocs living on the lake’s shore, so far away from Lakeshire, it seemed like the other side of the world. When she was there though, all she could think of was her mother’s disapproval of her lifestyle, Keeshan’s renewed hope when she had managed to singlehandedly reform the Bravo Company and his haunted surprise when they had both found out that the other was still alive, that the Company wasn’t completely dead after all. She couldn’t stop thinking about the others’ abrupt and terrible death.

She had failed them, the real heroes of Redridge who had sacrificed everything in service of the Alliance.

When she was physically here, it was always harder to face her darkest moments but it helped her take a step back from the madness of her daily life and regroup, work through some of her issues, maybe find a way to do better.

She had told Léria about all of that once, and her sister’s only reply was that she was a masochist. Maybe it was true.

Still, that didn’t prevent her from enjoying the hiking paths she knew like the back of her hand, especially the most dangerous ones that always got her in trouble whenever she walked them.

She spent the better part of the day walking and enjoying the soft sounds of nature all around her. It helped her think, she had found pretty early on in her life, and as the sun started its slow descent to the West, she started nursing an idea.

Maybe she could do something good with all of that money she suddenly had.

 

 

***

 

 

The next day, despite her mother’s apparent disapproval, Lidya spent her morning penning various letters, sending them off and reconnecting with the people of Lakeshire. Léria joined her at the tavern for lunch and they stayed there for two hours, talking about everything and nothing, but mostly their various adventures since the last time they had seen each other.

Lidya was pretty sure she would never forget the moment she had come face to face with her little sister in the middle of a fight in the Spires of Arak.

The two sisters had immediately ran to the other and had hugged as tightly as they could, uncaring of the fight still raging all around them.

Léria had been sent to Draenor as reinforcement some time after Lidya had set up her garrison. She was a priestess, and a damn good one at that, and she had been of invaluable help to the Arakkoa outcasts and to her sister’s mental health.

Of course Lidya had grown close to several people during the long and hard fight against the Iron Horde, but having family close to her while she was on another planet? For some reason, that had been the one thing reigniting her vigor and hope in the future. Her sister, who carried the Light with her, had been the reason she had pushed on and survived Tanaan, Lidya was sure of it.

“Mom and dad won’t talk about it in front of the girls, but they’re worried sick about you. The news coming from the Isles are worrying at best, and although I keep telling them that you can’t write us for security and practical reasons they still worry about you all the time. When that Royal Guard came, I swear for one second they thought you had died.”

Lidya pursed her lips but judging from the way Léria raised an eyebrow, she had seen on her face that she almost had.

“At least they don’t bother you as much now that you were relocated to the Cathedral, right?” she asked.

Léria nodded and took a sip of cider.

“They were paranoid at first, because Deathwing did get to Stormwind and people died, but once I made the compelling argument that Blackrock orcs have been trying to invade Redridge for ever, and we have murlocs and giant spiders not so far from the city they stopped.”

Lidya snorted into her own drink and took a second catching her breath.

“But let’s be real,” said Léria once she was once again breathing, “why are you here? We both know you only come when something really bad happens.”

Lidya looked down, staring at her left hand on her lap and regretting not taking Felo’melorn with her. She was capable of defending herself without it, but she felt safer with the blade at her side.

“Something did happen,” she started, wetting her lips and swallowing down bile with difficulty, “I just don’t know if I can talk about it.”

“I won’t judge you,” immediately replied her sister.

“I know it’s just… I don’t have the words and it’s so… so crazy.”

“What is it?” asked Léria, leaning a little over the table and looking into her eyes with an intensity that she couldn’t ignore.

“I _didn’t_ die, exactly, but...”

“What?”

“It’s like...” she paused, trying to put words to it when it was all still so vague for her, who had _been there_. “My soul was taken to Helheim, and weakened by Helya, so I had to strengthen it again and fight my way out.”

Léria frowned, looking horrified for a second, before she schooled her face and just nodded, once.

“Do you need me to peek inside?” she asked, tapping her temple with her index.

Lidya shook her head.

“No, thanks, I’m too scared of what you’d have to witness.”

“Alright,” replied Léria, gently wrapping her fingers around her sister’s wrist and letting a soothing wave of Light wash over her.

 

 

***

 

 

The next day came a letter sealed with the seal of the Wrynn’s Royal House.

“I can’t believe the King sent you a letter,” murmured Saya, looking at the unopened letter with stars in her eyes.

She was still young, only eleven, so it wasn’t really surprising that she’d be so awestruck at the mention of the King, especially since she had been nursing a crush on the former Prince ever since she had seen a glimpse of him while visiting Léria at the Cathedral of Light. What was surprising, though, was the look of reverence on everyone else’s face, except Léria who mostly looked amused.

“Come on Lidya, just open it!” added Oriana, biting down on her lower lip and practically vibrating with excitement.

Lidya rolled her eyes but did so, quickly reading the small message. It was to the point, with absolutely no flourish and was signed by His Majesty Anduin Wrynn and High King Varian Wrynn.

“So, what does it say?” asked her mother when Lidya only stared down at the letter.

“I’m invited to dinner,” she said, not believing herself even as she said the words and reread them, “ _tonight_.”

All four of her sisters – even Léria – shouted in joy and excitement, but Lidya was too stunned to react.

It was, well, worse than strange. Worse, because for some reason they wanted to see her now, and it had never happened before. Not when she had killed Onyxia, or the Lich King, or all the other times she had done something outrageously stupid that ended up saving a lot of people. Never had she received a letter from the King that wasn’t some order to go to war against the Horde or some new enemy.

For a second, she thought about all the things she had been up to recently, wondering if maybe something had ticked them off or if it was just a strange thank you diner for the fact that she had saved Varian on the Broken Shore.

Surely, it wasn’t because of Genn. _That_ wasn’t her fault.

Lidya heavily sat down on a chair, eyes still turned down and looking at the letter without really seeing it.

“Do you even have something to wear?” asked her mother, touching her shoulder and finally bringing her back to the present moment.

Lidya blinked once, twice, frowned and abruptly folded the letter again.

“What?” she asked, putting it in the hidden pocket in her pants.

“Something to wear,” repeated her mother, looking impatient. “You can’t visit His Majesty dressed like that.”

She looked down at the plain clothes Oriana and Léria had lent her, blinked up at her mother.

Her mother sighed heavily and roughly grabbed her by the arm before literally dragging her to her own bedroom, muttering under her breath something that sounded extremely rude and Lidya chose to ignore.

After all, she had worse things to think about right this instant. Like the fact that she was apparently going to have dinner at the Keep whether she liked it or not, judging by the serious expression on her sisters faces when they joined them.

 

 

***

 

 

Her mother had given her a hearthstone enchanted to bring her back to Lakeshire and had made her promise four times to not lose it before literally pushing her out of the house and telling her to get to Stormwind.

Lidya teleported to the capital smoothly, forty minutes too early, and took a moment once in the Mage Quarters to just still down on a bench and breathe for a while.

She felt uneasy, and the anxiousness churning around her stomach ever since she had stepped into Helheim was worse than ever so she tried to talk herself out of her panicked state, reasoning that she had done a lot of scarier things than have dinner with Varian and Anduin, who had probably seen her in worst states of mind.

After all, she had hiked with Varian through Dun Morogh for three days while her brain was bleeding and chased Anduin all through Pandaria. Surely, she could survive one meal.

Breathing deeply to give herself courage, she got up and started walking in the direction of the Keep, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, one step at a time.

She did her best to walk slowly but still arrived with twenty minutes to spare and figured that no one could be mad at her for that, so she quickly went up the stairs leading to the Keep and was surprised to find an old man in elegant clothes waiting there and watching her.

“Archmage, welcome,” he said, nodding respectfully. “His Majesty is already waiting for you, if you would follow me.”

And with an elegant gesture of his arm, he turned around and started walking into the Keep.

Lidya hoped her surprise didn’t show too much as she followed suit, the shoes her mother had lent her clicking against the marble floor as they walked up the throne room that she was so used to see and passed a door she had never seen open before.

In fact, Lidya was pretty sure that nothing she was wearing except for her enchanted rings was hers. The dress was Léria’s, the shoes her mother’s and most of the discreet jewelry a mix of everyone’s.

It felt weird. Especially since she hadn’t worn a dress in a very long time. She knew it looked weird to a lot of Dalaran mages, to see one of them who wasn’t a guard in pants, but Lidya knew from experience that the only way to survive through a trek in Tanaan – or any jungle, for that matter – was to be able to move quickly and run, and unfortunately, a dress or robes were the last pieces of clothing to allow that.

That was making her a little paranoid. She couldn’t run in this dress or those shoes, and while she had kept Felo’melorn at her side on the off chance that the guards wouldn’t confiscate it for the evening, she still felt pretty much naked without the rest of her armor, however thin it truly is, being cloth instead of leather or plate.

The man leading her through a long serie of long hallways finally stopped in front of a non descriptive pair of doors and turned to face her again, gazing pointedly at the three fire orbs bouncing over her head.

Feeling her cheekbones color in what felt a little too much like shame, Lidya smothered them until they were gone.

“It was a pleasure,” replied the man, nodding once again, his lips pursed in a tight line, before opening the doors for her.

Lidya stepped into the room, watched as the doors were immediately closed behind her, then looked around her.

It was, truthfully, a little underwhelming. Not that the room was ugly or sparse, but all it contained was a normal looking table made for four people, a lit hearth, some painting, and a big chandelier. It didn’t look like the kind of room the King would invite people to dine with.

Mostly, it looked like the room where you had a quiet dinner with your close family and maybe a friend or two.

Her heart sank to the bottom of her chest when she realized that maybe, this was exactly what it was.

She reached into the pocket in her dress where she had put the hearthstone, suddenly panicking and not knowing what to do, but was interrupted by the door behind her opening again, this time to let in a smiling and frankly delighted looking Anduin.

Lidya blinked at him, mind totally blank for a second, before remembering that he was her King now, so she bowed.

“Lidya!” he saluted, looking ever more delighted, “I’m so glad you could come! I can’t tell you how happy I was when I heard that you were back in Redridge for a few days!”

She smiled back as frankly as she could, wondering if he had paid the flight master or if there was a SI:7 agent watching her hiding somewhere.

“Thank you for inviting me,” she said, trying to remember what her mother had taught her.

Although, if she had to be honest, no one in her family had ever thought that she would one day be so close to the royal family, and her conversation with them usually involved a lot of ordered being given to her while she nodded and said “Yes your majesty”. With Anduin, it had been easier since she had known him since he was a boy and he had always made her speak to him like he was any other citizen, but now that he was the ruling King, it was different.

She knew things hadn’t changed between them, the way he put a hand between her shoulder blades to lead her to the table said so, but it still felt weird, to think that the little boy she used to know was now the ruling monarch.

“Sit, please,” he said, doing so himself, so she did, sitting to his right, wondering who would be joining them.

It didn’t click until it was too late that there were _two_ other plates, and since Varian was probably joining them, it could only mean one thing.

Lidya got up when the door reopened, more by reflex than anything, and she quickly looked away, feeling her cheekbones color in embarrassment for the second time in only a few minutes, when Genn Greymane stepped into the room after Varian.

He was frowning, and took the seat in front of Anduin without a word or a glance to her, and Lidya was stuck standing up for a couple of seconds, not knowing what to do.

She was saved by Varian, who took place in front of her and gestured for her to sit again with a tiny grin.

Almost instantly a second door, that Lidya hadn’t even noticed, opened and servants poured in, setting dishes in front of them, bringing out different kinds of wine and serving them generously.

The mage kept her eyes resolutely fixed on her plate and waited until the servants had disappeared and the three other men at the table had started eating before doing the same.

“So Lidya,” said Anduin after a moment, obviously looking uncomfortable in the deafening silence, “how is Redrige this time of the year?”

“It’s nice,” she replied, sparing him a quick glance that earned her an encouraging smile before she was looking back down at her mashed potatoes. “It’s not too hot yet, so I can enjoy a little hike in the mountains, not that a hotter weather would bother me too much either.”

“Is it a fire mage thing?” asked Varian.

She looked up at him and shrugged a shoulder.

“More like a spent-too-much-time-in-a-jungle-thing.”

“Ah yes,” he replied, chuckling, “I’ve heard a pretty good amount of people call you Lidya of the Jungle, you know?”

This time her cheekbones didn’t betray her but she still chucked embarrassingly.

“Yes it’s… it’s something that happened,” she said, before focusing back on her mashed potatoes.

She took a forkful, which was extremely good, then took a bite of the meat, and decided that she might as well eat the delicious food, this way maybe they’d stop telling her things like that.

Unfortunately, it seemed like they didn’t care how uncomfortable she was, because the next person to speak was Genn, the one she didn’t want to hear.

“What prompted this sudden trip here?” he asked, looking at the content of his plate too.

“Stormheim was pretty rough, so I thought a few days back home would do me good,” she said.

He looked up at her sharply, and she knew what he read between the lines, in her eyes.

He had been here when she had gotten out of Helheim, and she hadn’t had the chance to even sit down and breathe for a second before they were running after Sylvanas, and the ensuing fight had been rough too – which was why she had ended up wounded, just like him.

“I understand,” he said, and Lidya pursed her lips.

“I guess you do,” she replied, before looking back down at her food. “How’s the shoulder?”

She felt more than she saw Anduin and Varian stiffen, but Genn just snorted softly.

“Good. How are _you_?”

“Getting better,” she answered honestly.

“Good.”

And that was the end of the conversation.

 

 

***

 

 

After eating they moved to a library with soft and comfortable couches and enough books to have even Lidya, who had spent a good amount of her life in Dalaran, impressed. Servants brought tea and left them by themselves again.

Anduin chatted a little, managing to fill the silence and get some responses out of Lidya and Genn, but it wasn’t until Varian spoke up that the ice was broken.

“So,” he started, draping both arms on the back of the couch he was sitting on with Anduin, “who wants to go first? Because this can’t continue. Genn is too proud to apologize and Lidya, truthfully I don’t know what happened in details but it can’t be _that_ bad.”

She narrowed her eyes at Varian, which didn’t seem to impress him much.

“He called me a peasant,” she said, gritting her teeth, “and I know it probably doesn’t mean much for you, but Genn _knows better_.”

“And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Genn hissed through gritted teeth, glaring.

“Yes you did, or you wouldn’t have said it.”

“You know I respect you!”

“If you did you wouldn’t have used me to get to Sylvanas and disobey a _direct_ order from Anduin.”

“I already had a long conversation with him about it,” interrupted Anduin, “I know it wasn’t your fault.”

“It doesn’t change anything!”

Genn started to say something else but was cut off by Varian

“Everyone out!” he ordered. “Lidya, you stay.”

She tried to glare at him while Anduin and Genn were leaving but his eyes were a little too intense for her to look into them for too long so she turned to some of the books along the wall instead. They had done nothing to her but she still imagined herself setting them all on fire, knowing that while it wouldn’t make her happier, it would at least calm her a little.

“Why is peasant such a bad word?” asked Varian after a minute.

Lidya gritted her teeth until it hurt her jaw and got up to join the books she was glaring at, pretending to be interested in them.

“That’s what they called me in Dalaran, when I first arrived,” she said, grabbing a book and opening it, slowly paging through it.

She wasn’t reading any of the words written, but it made her feel better to have something occupying her eyes and hands.

“I joined the Kirin Tor pretty late. No one knew that I could do magic until I was thirteen and a defias tried to steal our money while we were traveling to Elwynn. I was so scared I pyroblasted him without even meaning to. He died on the spot.”

For a while, she had had nightmares about it every night. She kept on seeing the blade the masked man was holding to her mother’s throat and the tears on Léria’s face.

“I had the Redridge accent at the time, and knew absolutely nothing about mages, and most of the other kids were blood elf that came from families where everyone was one.”

“They bullied you,” said Varian without a trace of doubt in his tone.

“Yeah,” she replied, still looking down at the book. “For the longest time I didn’t understand what they were calling me since it was in Thalassian, I just knew it was an insult.”

“Peasant, I imagine.”

“That’s the best and closest translation in Common. It wasn’t until a girl from Arathi and my mentor, the oldest high elf I’ve ever seen, finally started to help me that it stopped.”

“And Genn knows all of that?”

She nodded and put the book back where it was before turning to Varian.

“You’re right then, he shouldn’t have said that, and he shouldn’t have attacked the Horde, but Anduin and I already took care of that.”

Lidya nodded and watched curiously as he patted the couch next to him.

She hesitated, but went to sit down next to him anyway.

“Nice sword,” he commented once she was settled, “can I see it?”

“Sure.”

She took it out of its sheath and handed it to him, watching as he grabbed it with care, got up and started to swing it slowly.

He looked fierce, he always did, but somehow it was making Lidya feel a little embarrassed. It felt like she was intruding on something to watch him move so easily around the library, wearing plain and comfortable clothes.

His shirt looked soft, and so did his eyes, and when he turned around, his back now facing her, she couldn’t help but stare at the way his muscles rolled under his skin. Felo’melorn wasn’t made to be wielded like that, but she had to admit that it looked good in his hand.

He turned back to her, a soft smile on his lips, and handed the sword back to her.

“Thanks,” he said, “that’s a really nice one.”

“Wanna see something cooler?” she asked as she sheathed it again, smirking when he raised a curious eyebrow.

He laughed out loud when Lidya let the three fireballs floating over her head be instead of constantly dismissing them and his eyes flickered from them to Lidya’s eyes several times before settling on the fireballs.

“It comes from the sword?” he asked, looking fascinated.

“Yes, and they’re pretty potent.”

“Can you show me?”

Lidya chuckled and sent one straight into the dying fire in the hearth, making it roar back to life instantly.

When she turned back to Varian, he was smiling at the fire, looking delighted.

“You look like a child,” she laughed.

“I just think my life would be much easier if I could do that too.”

“So you had a rough day with the House of Nobles, uh?” she asked as he sat back down next to her, close enough to clearly signify that it was a talk between friends and not an official one.

“You could say that. But don’t think we’re done talking about Genn.”

“I told you everything.”

“How are you two so close? I never really understood that. Anduin and you, I get, you’ve known each other for a while and actually spent time together, but you and Genn… it’s like you were best friends the day he arrived here in Stormwind.”

“It’s almost what happened to be fair, but I don’t think I can tell you what happened. That’s his secret to tell and while I’m not super happy with him right now, I wouldn’t do it to him either.”

“Alright,” sighed Varian, his eyes not leaving her.

The truth was that she had done a solid to Genn. A very big favor, and she had only understood how big it was once they were back in Stormwind Keep in the guest bedroom he had been offered.

She didn’t even exactly remembered how he had approached her. She knew that it was during the dinner that had been given in honor of all the Gilnean guests and she had been invited to.

Someone had mentioned the Lich King and the Wrathgate, and Lidya had quickly change subject to the various uses of a fire mage in a place as cold as Nothrend before Varian or Anduin could start crying or actually kill someone – and she was slightly shocked to see that the one ready to kill wasn’t the one she had been expecting.

Genn had joined her during the impromptu ball following the dinner and had started the conversation with some variant of “can your fire cleanse the plague?”

“Not exactly,” she had said, “but it can help, why?”

Genn had stepped into her personal space instead of replying and looked down at her with dangerous and desperate eyes.

“I need your services,” he had said, quickly looking over his shoulder at the rest of the room – that couldn’t have been more oblivious to what was happening between the two of them – then bent down to directly whisper into her ear: “I need to get back to Gilneas, just once. Tonight. I’ll pay you handsomely.”

Lidya’s reaction had been to step back and look up at him with shock.

“I thought half of the city was drowned under the plague. I can’t. We’ll die.”

“Not the Cathedral,” he had said, shaking his head, “nor my manor. I just need ten minutes in each, please.”

She had frowned, ready to decline and join the dancing happening on the other side of the room, but his hardened facial expression cracked and the desperation in his eyes spread over his entire being. Suddenly, the proud King who had managed to save most of his people from a terrible attack and the Cataclysm looked as broken as he had the right to. He slouched over, looking ready to cry any second, and she didn’t have the heart to say no.

After all, she could always teleport them back here if anything happened.

So, after nodding and pretending like his sudden relieved expression wasn’t a relief for her too, they agreed to meet on one of the balconies at the back of the Keep, where no one would probably think to check for them, and had both gotten back to the party.

Afterwards, once Lidya and Genn had both changed and she had managed a quick trip to Dalaran and back to dig out a book with the exact spell to teleport them to Gilneas, she made sure that he was aware of the danger of what they were going to do before reaching into the very structure of the world and opening up a portal.

They stepped through it and arrived to what should have been the Merchant Square.

It looked more like a battlefield, which it probably had been at some point, and Lidya watched attentively at the way Genn’s jaw flexed and he clenched his hands into tight fists.

“That’s the Cathedral?” she asked, pointing to what was very obviously the right building. It was in the center of the city, for everyone to see, and she had to admit that she liked that, although the Gilnean architecture looked completely depressing to her. She was too used to Dalaran and Stormwind’s lively and colorful streets.

“Can you teleport us there?”

“Yes, just give me a minute.”

She closed her eyes and focused, trying to get the feel of this place – which was a lot harder than it looked since she was visiting the place in question for the first time.

Thankfully, she was aiming for a cathedral, and Light was always easy to find. She was familiar with it, and while it wasn’t ideal and she would have preferred it if there was already at least one portal in the city to make it easier, she still managed to find a way.

She didn’t cast a portal this time, preferring to directly teleport them, and she wished Genn had warned her about the state they would find the inside of the building before going in, because she gasped out loud and almost couldn’t believe what she was seeing when they arrived in a completely ravaged cathedral.

The place had been desecrated, she could tell although she had no particular affinity with the Light and even though It was still present, and it was a shock to see Genn immediately start walking towards the altar as if he couldn’t see the rest.

Lidya stayed back, observing him and the room at large. All the stained glass windows were broken and she could see forsaken war canons outside, sickly green pools of plague still on the ground.

There weren’t any cadavers, and that somehow made everything worse.

She turned back to Genn when something clicked loudly and found him opening up part of the altar to take a black velvet pouch out of it that immediately disappeared inside his coat.

She looked away when he put the altar back how it was and started walking back to her. This was his country, he probably knew all of its secrets and whatever he had came to take, it must have been important. Or not. Light knew she would try to save anything she could if she ever lost her home.

“Let’s go,” he groaned when he joined her, his eyes looking yellow when the moonlight hit him.

“Okay,” she said, slowly. “Where to?”

“My manor. West of here.”

Lidya nodded and got the book she had gotten in Dalaran out of her bag, quickly scanning through the maps of Gilneas and trying to find the quickest way.

“I think,” she said prudently, frowning down at the book and pretending she couldn’t see Genn fidgeting next to her, “that I can get us close, but not directly inside.”

“How close?”

“The hill leading to it, probably. I’ll try to get us as close as possible but I’ve never been there, I can’t even _see_ where we’re going and this map is pretty spare when it comes to details.”

Genn pursed his lips but nodded curtly so she started casting again.

It took a lot longer than she was used to, but she still managed.

They arrived on the hill, like she had predicted, with the manor looming above them, at the very top of it, and the rest of Gilneas spread under them.

Genn started walking without losing a second, looking stern and determined, and Lidya followed him a few steps behind.

Nothing happened on the long way to the manor, and the total absence of noise was starting to freak her out.

The manor’s front doors gave a long creak when Genn pushed them open and he didn’t even stop before stepping into the dark house, ignoring Lidya who followed him a little closer this time. He seemed to know his way without seeing anything but it wasn’t her case and she had a bad feeling about this place.

They went up the stairs, walked down two long hallways and entered a bedroom. Genn immediately walked towards the desk sitting at the corner of the room while Lidya made her way to the giant balcony overlooking the grounds and the breathtaking view of the sea.

There weren’t any pane of windows anymore, so she could feel the cool breeze blowing as she watched the trees gently shaking in it, two birds fly over the cliff and a small animal scatter through the gardens, and she jumped in surprise when Genn brutally closed a drawer.

He spared her a quick glance, a huge leather book tucked under his arm, and started walking towards one of the bedside table without a sound.

Lidya turned back to the balcony, the birds and animal gone, and decided to focus back on the king.

He was taking a jewelry box out of the bedside table’s drawer, and Lidya asked him if he wanted her to keep it in her bag until they got back.

He narrowed his eyes at her but handed it without a word, then moved to leave the room.

He grabbed a painting in the hallway, and Lidya barely had time to see two smiling men with ginger hair before he was putting it under his arm too and walking away.

They entered another room, slightly smaller than the first one and a lot messier, and she watched with a lump in the throat as he rummaged through the armoire, taking clothes out, sniffing them like a wolf would, and putting them back.

After a while he settled on a green shirt that disappeared under his coat too and Lidya couldn’t help but want to comfort him when he looked around the room and blinked several times, eyes shining even in the darkness.

It was his son’s bedroom, she could tell, and she grabbed the most beaten up book she could find on the shelves to her right without really thinking and handed it to him.

“Was this his favorite one?” she asked.

Genn looked down at the book with a sad smile.

“Yes,” he said. “His mother gave it to him when he was ten and he never stopped rereading it since then.”

“You should take it,” she whispered, feeling her own eyes fill with tears when he gently grabbed the book like it was fragile.

Losing a child was hard, but losing him because he had taken an arrow for you? She couldn’t even imagine the guilt he must have been feeling.

“Alright,” he murmured, staring at the book for a second too long before putting it into the pouch at his belt and quickly wiping away the traces of his chagrin from under his eyes.

Lidya pretended she couldn’t see it and followed him out of the room and down the hallway. When they arrived at the top of the stairs, however, Genn stiffened and halted her by raising a hand and frowning.

“What’s happening?” she asked, but he ignored her and turned into his worgen form, crouching down and barring his teeth.

Lidya almost yelled when another worgen fell down from the _ceiling_ in the middle of the stairs and another one appeared out of nowhere behind them.

Genn groaned but Lidya elbowed him and grabbed his wrist into a tight grip before transforming the worgen on the stairs into a living bomb and blinking Genn and her to the bottom of the stairs.

She pulled him after her as she ran to the front door, scorching the second worgen who was running after them as she went, and as soon as they were out and Genn was pushing the doors close she started casting the teleportation spell to Stormwind.

They arrived at the balcony they had left and both fell to their knees, panting.

Genn put down the painting and leather book he was holding, and Lidya watched in horror at the burnt mark all over the upper left side of the painting.

“Oh Light,” she murmured, thumbing at the left corner and getting ashes on her finger, “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“It’s fine,” sighed Genn, looking up at the sky for a second before closing his eyes and slouching over, looking defeated. “I got what I wanted and that’s already more than I expected.”

Lidya was still staring at the painting. Half of the older man’s face was burnt, although he was still recognizable.

“That’s my father,” said Genn, pointing with his chin at the burnt man when she looked up at him. “And that’s me. The painting was made the day of my engagement with Mia.”

She looked down at the other man, younger, smiling broadly and standing tall and proud. He looked so happy compared to his present counterpart, Lidya hadn’t even recognized him despite the fact that he hadn’t changed at all.

“You look happy,” she commented.

Gen snorted and she saw his tears coming and didn’t hesitate before wrapping her arms around him and holding him close as he cried quietly against her shoulder.

The rest was kind of a blur. He wouldn’t stop crying, starting to sob after a while and holding on to her like a drowning man trying to stay afloat, so she had started to talk.

At first she had told him about how she had ended up at the party that night, how killing Onyxia had given her the status of a respected Glory Seeker, although she hated that term. Then, because he wasn’t calming down, she had started to run her fingers through his hair and had changed subject to talk about her own heartbreaks. She had told him about going to Dalaran, to Outland, to Northrend. She had told him about all the times she had almost died, all the times she had thought about quitting everything and going back to her mentor to study theoretical magic with him.

He started talking too, after a while. He told her about Liam, about a man named Darius, about his guilt and his shame over everything that had happened. He didn’t say a lot about his wife or daughter but when he did, it was clear that he missed them.

Then they went on to talk about their childhoods, drastically different as they were, and only stopped once the sun started rising and Genn’s tears had ran out a long time ago.

Lidya got out of her thought when Varian got up from the couch and gave her a tiny smile.

“I’ll go get them back then.”

“Okay,” she nodded, watching him go.

 

 

***

 

 

Varian didn’t come back and after more than ten minutes, Lidya got restless and decided to get up and go look after him.

For a while she wandered through the Keep’s numerous hallways and few open rooms. She had no idea where Genn and Anduin had gone to and Varian had seemed happy to let her be on her own, so she entertained herself by looking at all the paintings she came across.

Most of them showed scenery or members of the Wrynn family she didn’t recognize, but one in particular, hidden in a dark alcove, had her stop dead on her track to just stare at it in wonder.

The flawless dark skin, broad smile, neatly combed hair and soft eyes were absolutely alien to her, although it reminded her a little of a younger Anduin, but there was no doubt, when she looked at the high cheekbones and full lips, or even the proud tilt of the chin, that the child painted there was none other than Varian Wrynn himself.

He was cute, it was hard to say otherwise, but she couldn’t help but feel sad at the fact that this beaming child had become the man she knew now, rarely if ever smiling, gruff most of the time and the complete opposite of soft.

She wondered what he would have been like, hadn’t he lost his parents and gone through all of the awful things that had followed. She imagined he would have probably been more alike Anduin.

Maybe.

Sighing, she stepped away from the painting and started walking back on her step. The fact that she was getting into one of her moods was a clear indication that it was starting to get late and she knew it would be very poor manners to hearthstone back to Redridge without paying her respects to the men who had invited her.

She managed to find her way back to the room they had been in and found Varian there with his son, both standing side to side in front of the fireplace discussing softly.

Lidya made herself known by purposefully not stepping on the carpet muffling the sound of her shoes and offered the best smile she could muster when they both turned to her.

“Lidya,” smiled Anduin, the same broad one as the one on the painting.

“Hey,” she replied, “thank you for inviting me but I probably should get going.”

Father and son exchanged a glance before turning back to her.

“I’ll walk you out,” said Varian.

Lidya nodded and accepted with surprise a hug from Anduin.

 

 

***

 

 

Lidya was pretty sure Varian was preventing her from leaving when they passed the exact same potted plant for the third time. She hesitated between telling him that she knew or keeping the charade up, before deciding that she might as well have fun with it.

“So,” she started, voice down because there were _a lot_ of guards patrolling the hallways, “Anduin’s king now, huh?”

Varian sent her a strange look but nodded.

“I think it’s better that way. I can focus on the attack against the Legion as High King while he’s relatively safe here, making sure nothing happens to the kingdom.”

“I can see the logic behind that,” she agreed, watching as they took a left turn, _again_. “I heard rumors about a wedding,” she added, just to see him turn to her almost violently and frown.

“Really?”

“Yep. And don’t worry, it probably sounds as weird to you as it does to me, but that’s actually… not a stupid idea.”

He snorted.

“Of course, he’s the King now, he needs an heir or two. Two would be better, truthfully, but with the Wrynn luck, one is plenty already.”

It was Lidya’s turn to snort.

“I’m sure if there’s one Wrynn to turn it all around, it’ll be Anduin.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

They walked in silence for another minute, taking another left turn, and Lidya wondered how many times he would have her pass the same hallways before finally revealing why he was doing this.

“Was the money your idea?” she asked after they passed the exact same guard as five minutes before and took a right this time.

“It’s what we usually do for feats of bravery, although Anduin wasn’t happy with the way it was delivered.”

“Really?”

“He thought it was too impersonal and I should have walked to where ever you live and give it to you personally.”

“I would have refused it if you had done that.”

“That’s exactly what I told him!” replied Varian, sending her a smile over his shoulder as they took another right.

Lidya bit down on a smile and followed him through two other left turns before they finally went straight ahead instead of turning.

She only realized she had already been there once that night when they passed the painting of Varian she had looked at.

She stopped that time too and heard Varian huff as he stopped too several steps ahead before joining her.

“I had forgotten about that one,” he said after a short silence.

“You look cute. Anduin has the same smile sometimes.”

Varian turned to her and smiled almost softly, and even though she _knew_ how much he cared for and loved his son, it still left her reeling sometimes, the depth of his love for Anduin.

“He doesn’t feel ready to be king yet, but he respects and values your opinion like he does with very few. Do you think you could make him change his mind?”

“I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” he replied, still smiling, before squeezing her shoulder and starting to walk again.

They circled back to the room they had been in and Varian passed it as if it was nothing. He probably knew that she wasn’t duped, but she was starting to grow curious as to why he was doing this, so she followed along without a word.

For a while they continued to walk in silence, until an idea struck Lidya.

She started laughing softly and received a curious look.

“Please, don’t tell me you elaborated a plan with Anduin to have me walk around the Keep in circle until we run into Genn.”

“To be fair, my son forced me into it.”

She chuckled and he did the same.

“That’s ridiculous… although I appreciate it. I think.”

“I don’t think I would have taken it as nicely as you, but if you want to teleport away while I’m conveniently not looking, go ahead. I actually have better things to do than that too.”

This time Lidya laughed out loud as Varian finally stopped walking and turned to face her. He wasn’t smiling this time, except for his eyes.

Now that she was thinking about, she didn’t think she had ever seen him close enough to have a real look at his eyes, except maybe when she had jumped on top of him with Gul’dan yelling in the background.

That gave her a strange feeling. Not really warm, but close.

“My family’s waiting for me, probably. I should go.”

He nodded and watched her reach into her pocket and take her hearthstone out.

“By the way,” he said just as she was activating it, “nice shoes.”

Lidya snorted loudly but found herself in the middle of an asleep Lakeshire before she could reply, and she happily walked to her house in the dead silent night.

The evening had gone way better than she had expected, and although she now had to face her family and their pestering, she felt somewhat happy.

 

 

***

 

 

“Just because the King invited her to dinner,” muttered her mother the next morning when she entered the house a little before lunch and found Lidya in the exact same spot she had left her three hours earlier. “I told you to go help your father!”

“Mom, he doesn’t want my help and I wouldn’t even know what to do even if I was there.”

“Picking apples isn’t difficult.”

Lidya rolled her eyes and focused back on the letter she had been reading.

Ilana seemed pretty bummed about her sudden vacation, but from what she was writing she had used her Lidya-free time to take all her Illidari out into the world. They were pretty conflicted about Dalaran and Lidya noted that Jace used to be a mage in a corner of her brain. You never knew what information could turn out to be useful.

“Also, get those fireballs away, this is dangerous,” added her mother, passing behind her and obnoxiously looking over her shoulder.

“Mom I won’t burn the house down, how many times do I have to tell you?”

“As many times as it takes until you finally understand that this is dangerous.”

“I’m a fire mage mom. I literally _control_ those fireballs. This is actually safer than lighting up the hearth.”

Her mother scoffed and started rummaging through the kitchen instead of replying and Lidya went back to her letter reading, smiling as she discovered Ilana’s crazy adventures.

Really, befriending a demon hunter had to be one of her best ideas ever.

The rest of the afternoon went on like that, with Lidya reading and replying to letters – because somehow everyone knew where she was – and her mother popping in and out of the house at various intervals, never forgetting to pester her about one thing or another.

It wasn’t until Léria got back, looking a little dazed, that something exciting happened.

“Lidya,” she started, shedding her cloak and blinking slowly. “You’ll never guess who I just saw at the tavern.”

Lidya frowned, putting down the nine pages long letter she was writing, and straightened up on the armchair she was sitting on.

“Who?”

Léria’s lips parted but someone knocked on the front door before she could talk and both sisters turned towards it.

“I’m pretty sure that’s him,” said Léria.

“Him?”

Léria nodded and the door was opened before she could say more.

Their mother stepped in, looking as dazed as Léria and was closely followed by an embarrassed looking Genn.

“Look, Lidya,” said her mother, smiling broadly, “His Majesty is here to see you.”

Lidya just stared.

It was rude, she knew, but Genn didn’t meet her eyes like he usually would, looking around the large room instead, his eyes stopping for a second on the bouncing fireballs above her head.

Léria, thankfully, was quick and bowed respectfully to him, grabbing Lidya’s wrist as she did, forcing her to get up and do the same. Genn replied with a slight bow of his head.

He looked like someone was holding a blade to his kidney or his family hostage to force him to be here, which, obviously, had Lidya ask him what he was doing here.

“I’m leaving for Stormheim tomorrow morning,” he said, his voice ringing strangely in the room. “I...” he paused, eyes flickering to her mother, “I wanted to continue our conversation from yesterday.”

Lidya nodded.

“Let’s go for a walk,” she said, getting up and leading the way to the front door without a look to anyone.

He followed silently.

 

 

***

 

 

“I’m sorry,” he said in a muted tone.

They were hiking through the hills west of Lakeshire overlooking the lake and his voice was the first sound interrupting the soft noises of nature.

“About what?”

“About what I said.”

Lidya didn’t look at him. In fact, she kept her eyes stubbornly fixed on the ground, not wanting to see what kind of facial expression he was wearing.

“I know I got too far and I shouldn’t have dragged you into this fight against Sylvanas, not when it’s mine, and I shouldn’t have said anything with the purpose of hurting you. So I apologize.”

“It’s fine,” she said, feeling like her voice wasn’t loud enough for him to hear her over the shifting leaves and the distant sound of birds. “I’m mostly mad at myself for being so affected by this stupid word still. I know it’s stupid and...” she shrugged, smiling ruefully, “I hate feeling stupid, so don’t kick yourself over that, I forgive you.”

She stopped walking and looked up at him with surprise when he gently grabbed her arm above the elbow, and she was too stunned to do anything other than hug him back when he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her.

She closed her eyes, letting her head rest against his shoulder and feeling herself fully relax for the first time since she had gotten to Helheim. Genn squeezed her tighter, his chin on her head, and the mage had a hard time understanding _why_ she felt so safe in that hug.

Genn was warm, and tall, and broad and capable of defending the both of them if the situation required it, but still. He hadn’t ever hugged her before, but it felt oddly familiar and like it was the missing piece she had been looking for by coming here, and when it finally clicked in her head, she couldn’t help a snort.

Genn felt like her dad, back when she was small and close to her parents and needed reassuring after a nightmare.

“Thank you,” he murmured against the crown of her head and she squeezed him for a while longer before stepping away and pretending like they both weren’t smiling stupidly.

 

 

***

 

 

She had invited Genn to stay for dinner and he had accepted without hesitating, and she would bet that he was regretting it now that Saya and Oriana were both sitting on each side of him, asking questions after questions about the most ridiculous things.

“Lidya took pictures of the Gilneans she met,” said Saya, “why do you all look depressed all the time?”

“Except you,” added Oriana. “Why don’t you look depressed?”

“Girls,” scolded their mothers, “show him some respect.”

“Sorry,” muttered Oriana.

“Why don’t you look depressed, Your Majesty?” said Saya.

Lidya met Genn’s panicked glance with a smirk.

Thankfully for him, the girls’ father came to his rescue and managed to keep everyone from embarrassing the king all through the meal and after that, when Genn lingered for a bit with everyone in the living room, just watching the fire in the hearth and talking in soft voices.

“Hey,” he whispered over Léria’s usual tale of that one time she had taken control of an attacking Murloc and made it dance while people were getting help, “I know I should have said it earlier but thanks for saving Varian.”

“Come on,” replied Lidya, turning to face him and give him a half smile, “you don’t have to thank me for that. I’m pretty sure I did everyone a solid but I did it for very selfish reasons.”

“Oh really?” replied Genn, suddenly looking amused as he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t let Anduin hear you say that.”

“Why?” frowned Lidya.

“No one would stop hearing about it, ever. But please, let’s not talk about him but about your selfish reasons.”

Lidya frowned harder but decided to let it go for now.

“Well, he’s my king, you know,” she said, shrugging slightly, “I couldn’t just let him die. Especially at Gul’dan’s hand. I have kind of a grudge against him and there was no way I was letting him have Varian without at least trying something.”

Genn nodded but he still looked far too amused considering she hadn’t said anything funny.

“Hey,” she tried when he didn’t say anything, “does it mean that you know why Anduin’s acting so strangely?”

“Of course,” he smirked, “but don’t expect me to tell you why. It’s funnier to watch you try to make sense of it.”

“I hate you,” she replied, glaring, and his only answer was to laugh out loud.

 

 

***

 

 

Lidya decided that it was time for her to go back to Dalaran three days later. She had plenty to do there and was certain that Khadgar would send his head in a bubble after her if she didn’t come back soon, so she woke up that morning and announced to her family that she would get going after dinner. Her mother didn’t look happy but didn’t say anything rude and just told everyone to not be home late so they could all spend time with Lidya before she left.

The mage was pleasantly surprised by it – enough to finally relent and go help her father in the orchard for the day, spending more time sitting in the grass looking at birds than doing real work, but it was the thought that counted and her father didn’t seem to mind.

The evening was spent quietly inside and Lidya made sure to hug everyone for way too long – at least in her opinion – before finally teleporting herself back to Dalaran.

She took a second to look around the busy stairway leading to Krasus Landing, smiled at the people she recognized in the street, and started walking to a Hero’s Welcome without even meaning to. She had a feeling someone was waiting for her there.

She wasn’t wrong, because as soon as she walked into the inn she met Ilana’s eyes – or at least she guessed, considering the blindfold – and received a large grin from the demon hunter.

“So you’re back,” she said when Lidya sat down in front of her.

“I am.”

“Good, because Highmountain is making Kayn miserable, and if I have to spend another _minute_ hearing him whine about it I might snap and kill him.”

“How is it–”

“You’re coming with me, obviously,” Ilana cut her, and Lidya found that she had nothing to retort to that, so she just nodded and accepted the drink the night elf handed her.

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't know what I'm talking about when I refer to the Bravo Company or Loramus, please do yourself a favor and do the quests in Redridge, The Burning Steppes and Blasted Lands.


End file.
